


To where you are

by millygal



Category: Life on Mars (UK)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-20
Updated: 2013-09-20
Packaged: 2017-12-27 03:34:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/973824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/millygal/pseuds/millygal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ruth says her farewells</p>
            </blockquote>





	To where you are

Ruth Tyler watches the stoic orderly remove the sheet from her son's face, and she smiles.

She knows without looking that the dark haired man in charge of getting her to identify what is left of DCI Sam Tyler, is giving her a very odd look, but she can't bring herself to care.

That isn't her son. Not anymore.

The one thing she's learnt over the years, from Vic, and from the strange police officer that just kept popping into their live's, from everyone around her; if you can't feel it, you aren't living it.

The tears come. They will always come. But, not for the loss of her child, for the removal of her baby from her life.

They are tears of sorrow for never being able to tell Sammy how very proud she is of him, for keeping his promises.

She knew, that last time, the last time he confided in her as his best friend, as she'd always been. Even when he'd railed against the loss of his father, and the teenage rebellions of every soul still fighting to find itself. She'd always been his best friend, and she'd known he didn't belong in this world anymore.

He didn't want to be here. And she would never force him to stay. Not for her, not for the police force, not for anything.

She doesn't know where he is, whether he's found a white light, a doorway to somewhere infinitely warmer and lighter, a tunnel perhaps.

She just knows he doesn't live here anymore.

"I'm sorry to have to ask you this but, is this the body of Samuel Tyler?"

She shouldn't be able to stand, let alone nod once at the orderly and lay a hand on his arm to stop him re-covering Sam's body.

"Give me a moment?"

He looks reluctant. Too many years of seeing family members fall apart no doubt, "Are you sure?"

She nods again and he respectfully withdraws from the room.

What little of Sam's face is still recognizable is set with such a peacefulness. No pain, no shock, apart from the obvious and the horrific. If she looks further, beneath the blood and stigma that will follow it, she can see true peace.

A small smile is playing on Sam's lips and his eyes have no creases, no pressure about them. Like he's just sleeping.

She remembers watching his eyes as he 'slept' for months whilst in the coma. They always seemed active beneath the lids, even if they never moved, there was always that pressure, the impression of trying to find their way out of a great darkness.

There's none of that now.

She lays a hand on his shoulder, leans forward, low enough that she can smell disinfectant and the faint remnants of his aftershave, "You always keep your promises. That's why I didn't make you promise to stay with me. Sleep well Sammy. Sleep well"

A few stray tears drip from her nose onto his cheek and as she stands, she decides they're a fitting leaving gift.

As she exits the room, head filled with the practicalities of someone who has only a handful of people to rely on, she thinks she feels a soft breeze caress her cheek. And whether she's imagining it or not, she chooses to believe it's Sam and the universe's way of saying their own farewell.

33 years in the past, a man so filled with life, with fight and gumption, that he thought he could fly from the top of a building and land in his own personal slice of heaven, emerges from a tunnel, with a gun in his hand and a determination to take whatever he can get while he's still got the ability to enjoy it.


End file.
